


Snowflakes Falling Like I Fell For You

by DontLetHimGo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Christmas, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mistletoe, so much fluffff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontLetHimGo/pseuds/DontLetHimGo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas is a good time to fulfill one's wishes.</p><p>Or the one where Louis' been pining for too long and decides to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowflakes Falling Like I Fell For You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Christmas gift to my wonderful readers - I love you all to pieces ❤ 
> 
> You may know what I mean when I say that this is loosely based on the Boots advert...  
> But for those who don't [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51Yfr8ZKFXE) is what I'm talking about :)
> 
> (Apologies for awful title...)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction and all elements of this work are fictional.
> 
> This is a work written by myself, and I do not wish for it to be posted elsewhere. Even if you give me credit, I would much prefer that it stay here on ao3 and on my tumblr only. Thank you!

There’s not enough air to fill his lungs – even as he takes a deep breath.

He’s just so _fucking nervous._

The word ‘nervous’ barely seems to be enough to cover it really.

 

It’s all a bit stupid.

That’s what he tells himself anyway, because, _seriously_ , who gets so nervous about giving someone a Christmas present? No one. _Exactly_. 

Repeating that fact like a mantra in his head, he grips the wrapped parcel tight in one hand as the other one taps an off-beat on his knee.

Eventually, he drags himself onto his feet and opens the door, pulling his jacket tighter around him; the cold winter draught is freezing. 

“Lou? Where are you going love?”

He looks over his shoulder to see his mum stood in the kitchen doorway, a suspicious look on her face. 

“Just outside. I won’t be long.”

“Don’t be. Birthday tomorrow, you need a good night’s sleep!”

Louis nods and bids her farewell, before sprinting out of the house and slamming the door behind him. 

 

The light blanket of snow crunches underneath his trainer-covered feet as he runs down the street, convincing himself that he’s feeling more confident as he gets closer to his destination. The present in his gloved hand rattles with every movement – constantly reminding him of its existence – as festive lights guide his way.

He has a fleeting thought about wise men following the star, but drops it quickly, wondering why such a thought would enter his mind at a time like this. 

Plus, while they were taking posh gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to a baby Jesus, he’s taking a crappily-wrapped present to the boy he’s fancied for much too long.

 

***

 

It started when they were both in year seven. 

 

“I hope there’s cool people in our form. Not like people who _think_ they’re cool, but people that just _are.”_

Louis half-listened to his friend’s rhetorical rambling, but the other fraction of his brain was focused on taking in his new surroundings. 

There was a lot of people around, but one particular boy caught his eye and grinned.

A boy with hair that flicked out at the ends, as if it was almost curly, and a dimpled smile that Louis couldn’t help but return. 

 

They were put in the same form, and the teacher organised an alphabetical seating plan, resulting in the two of them sitting next to each other. 

“Styles and Tomlinson? Here, please.”

Louis’ closest, so he slid into the seat beside the wall, dropping his bag to the ground beneath the desk. He watched as the other boy – “ _Styles” –_ walked towards him, the same dimples carved in his cheeks as he gently placed his rucksack on the table and sat beside Louis. 

“’M Harry,” he said brightly, holding out a pale-skinned hand.

“Louis,” Louis replied, taking Harry’s hand and shaking it, still slightly taken aback by the other boy’s dazzling smile. 

 

That was the first time – but definitely not the last – Louis thought Harry was beautiful.

 

The feeling had always confused him; through years of sitting next to each other in class, even when there was no longer a seating plan, but not spending any other time with one another, Louis began to question what it may mean.

He felt attracted to Harry in a way which many assumed he should feel about girls, and there was a part of him – which would surprise him whenever it showed its face – that felt almost _possessive_ over the other boy.

 

They were in year nine when he gave in and finally admitted to himself that he _really liked_ Harry. 

 

Now, after two years of pathetically pining, he’s decided to do something about it. 

 

***

 

The house Niall pointed out to him on the walk home from school the other day is now in front of him, covered in twinkling Christmas lights.

(It’s handy to have a best friend whose boyfriend is your crush’s friend – Louis will tell you.) 

Light snow had begun to fall in his journey, and it is now speckled all over his coat and beanie; his shoes are damp from the slush and his toes are numb. 

His heart is racing. 

One final breath is taken in before he reaches for the latch on the gate, pulling it open and stepping into the garden. Telling himself once more that it’s going to be over in less than a minute, he sprints down the path to the front door, which has been decorated with a festive wreath. 

There is a slight hesitation before he gently places the present on the ground beside the door and raises a fist to knock on the door three times.

He then turns on his heel and begins running back towards the gate. 

The distance seems so much further this time, and after what feels like numerous minutes, he’s about six feet away from escape. 

It’s then that he hits the ice.

His legs go from beneath him and he falls flat on the slabs of the path, pain shooting up his legs and through his hands which he used to break his fall.

The air is forced out of his lungs and he can barely breathe for a moment, forgetting that he’s on limited time. However, he’s reminded of that fact when he hears a door opening and his silhouette becomes illuminated.

“Uh…Hello?”

Louis lets out a sigh at the sound of Harry’s familiar voice and drops his head to the ground in embarrassment.

“Are you alright?”

_Only Harry would ask a random – potentially dangerous - person lying face down in his garden if he was ‘alright’._

Louis eventually decides to roll onto his back and sit up so Harry can see it’s him.

“Louis? What are you doing here?”

The older boy meekly gets up onto his feet and nods at the gift at Harry’s feet; Harry acknowledges it briefly.

“You got me a present?” he asks softly, his eyes twinkling in the lights.

Louis nods slowly and shuffles slightly on his feet.  “It’s nothing really. I just-”

He cuts himself off when he sees Harry has picked up the wrapped parcel and is reading the label on it with a facial expression that Louis can’t quite read. Panic washes over him in a shock; he really, _really_ didn’t want to be present for this. 

After what feels like hours, Harry looks up to Louis once more, a bright smile on his face. “My family are out…Would you like to come in for some hot chocolate?” 

Louis’ mind goes blank – not only at the sight of the younger boy’s dimples, but at how indifferent Harry seems after reading the message. 

He realises that Harry is still waiting for a response and quickly stutters out, “Yes p-please.”

 

Louis follows the other boy inside, kicking his damp trainers off at the door as Harry takes his coat from him and throws it over the banister. 

Harry leads the way into the kitchen, gesturing for Louis to sit at the breakfast bar as he gets the milk out of the fridge and the hot chocolate powder from beside the kettle. Louis watches as he prepares the drinks, trying not to be too obvious when he’s realised that his eyes are drawn to Harry’s bum.

There’s silence apart from the microwave as one of the mugs of milk is heated up, but it is soon broken. 

“So we’ve never met outside of school before, have we?” Harry says, leaning against the counter. 

Louis shakes his head, wondering where Harry could be going with this. 

“I’ve only ever seen you in school uniform,” Harry points out. 

Looking down at his attire, Louis frowns, thinking that it’s probably not the best outfit to impress someone; Christmas jumpers really don’t tend to give that idea. 

“I really like your jumper,” Harry comments, as if he’s read Louis’ mind. 

“Thanks,” Louis replies, plucking at the material in time with the _ding_ announcing the microwave’s finish.

 

Harry sits beside him a couple of minutes later, handing him a mug of the warm liquid. 

“Thank you,” Louis says softly, blowing on it before taking a sip. It burns his tongue, but he hopes Harry doesn’t notice his face scrunching up in pain. 

“Is it okay?” Harry enquires, looking almost _nervous_ over hot chocolate.

“It’s lovely.”

They fall into a somewhat _un_ comfortable silence as each of them glance around the room, making eye-contact with anything but each other. 

Eventually, Louis hears Harry take a deep breath. 

“So,” he says quietly, fiddling with the paper of the present beside him, “Do you have any plans for Christmas?”

 

And all of a sudden, because of that one simple question, there is no more awkward silence – just happy conversation between the two of them.

 

Louis can just feel himself falling more and more. 

 

***

 

“Then he just… he just…” Harry lets out a loud guffaw of laughter as his head hits the counter top. “Fell into the Christmas tree… and it – it fell on top of him!”

Louis’ stomach hurts from laughter and his cheeks ache from smiling.

Harry’s stories are like drugs; Louis’ addicted and thinks that he won’t ever reach a point of saying _‘no more’._

They’ve been talking for way over an hour now – telling each other about past Christmas experiences and awkward family encounters. A part of Louis also thinks that a bit of flirting may have been involved, but he can’t say for sure. (Harry’s occasional hand on Louis’ arm, shoulder, et cetera will be thought about for days.)

When their laughter dies down, Harry appears to have noticed the time. “Wow; we’ve been talking for _ages_!”

“Yeah; I ought to be going soon, I guess,” Louis replies, standing up.

“You don’t have to – my family will probably still be out for another thirty minutes or so. You know what last minute Christmas shopping is like.”

“It’s okay. My mum wants me home in decent time anyway,” Louis pauses as he cringes at how lame he sounds, “for my birthday and all,” he adds. 

“Right.”

 

Harry helps Louis with putting on his coat and waits patiently beside him as he ties up his slightly less sodden shoes. 

“Well, thank you for the present, Lou,” Harry says gratefully. “And the company.”

Louis pulls the laces tight and returns to full height, a smile on his face. “It’s okay; I’ve had fun.” He opens the door and steps out, turning back to face the younger boy once more. “Merry Christmas!”

Harry returns the gesture and Louis turns on his heel, beginning to walk back down the path to the gate. 

Suddenly, Harry has grabbed his arm and spun him around so there’s mere centimetres between them.

“You’ve been at my house for almost an hour and forty-five minutes now, and you really think you’re going to get away with me not asking you about the label?”

With his heart in his throat, Louis chokes out, “I thought I was about to, yes.”

Harry simply raises an eyebrow in response, waiting for Louis to continue.

“I…I just don’t know Harry. Ever since we were first put together in year seven, I’ve noticed that there’s something different about you – through my eyes anyway. I don’t know what it is, but to me… you’re perfection. You’re kind and funny and generally lovely as well as being so - so goddamn beautiful and… God it’s so frustrating just seeing you in class every now and again, when I really just want more than that and-”

Louis is interrupted by warm lips covering his for brief seconds, followed by arms wrapping around his waist.

When Harry pulls back, Louis opens his mouth to speak, but Harry gets there first.

“Something’s not quite right,” he mumbles, pulling Louis towards him as he walks them back towards the porch. Louis follows his eyes upward and sees that the two of them are now stood underneath a small sprig of mistletoe. 

“Much better.”

Harry leans in again to capture Louis’ lips once more, this time with a longer, gentle kiss that neither of them can get enough of. Hot chocolate flavoured lips move together and Louis’ hands slide up Harry’s back to tangle in his hair as he arches into the younger boy’s body in an attempt to get as close to him as possible. 

A soft sound leaves Harry’s throat when Louis coaxes the other boy’s lips open and slips his tongue inside; Harry grips Louis’ coat tighter in his fists and drags the boy even tighter against him. 

 

Louis doesn’t understand the emotion shooting through his veins.

It’s like a combination of relief and fulfilment.

Whatever it is, it’s definitely wonderful.

 

**Author's Note:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL!
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://birds-of-freedom.tumblr.com)


End file.
